Fable - Ask Your signature please

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe regaled Zana with another bit of gossip she'd heard involving Talus and a petticoat - although she wasn't necessarily sure if it was true - apparently one of the Guards she had worked with had sworn it to be so.

After a few moments, she paused. The situation inside the room had quietened and she was not sure whether to be relieved or overjoyed. While she did appreciate the respite from the lack of screaming and anguished cries, her mind sank to darker places and she started to imagine the various horrors that Brackard might be inflicting onto the noble in silence.

She breathed. "I'll be back in a second." Satisified with Zana's current state, she strode to the door and rapped her knuckles across the solid wooden surface.

"Is everything okay in there?" She mumbled, it was likely her voice would barely be audible through the door, yet Florinthe could not bring herself to anything above a whisper. She did not want to draw the ire of any person within that room - including the torturee.

 

[Zana]

Talus' name caught her attention far more than the previous one, a warm smile creasing at her cheeks as she listened and made a mental note to ask him about it later. She knew through the bond he would have felt her distress from earlier, knew he would most likely try and seek her out that evening now to make sure she was ok. The thought helped to soothe her more and when Flor got up to go check she nodded at her friends worried look. She finished off her tea and then set it down on the tray.

A sharp stab of pain went through her mind and she dropped to one knee.

An explosion. Fire.
Masked men running down the battered corridor. Smoke. A door caved in, the prisoner's throat slit before he could utter more...

"GET DOWN," Zana managed about a second before the explosion hit the corridor. She threw up a barrier, purple energy crackling down the hallway and engulfed the room and Flor. The ceiling came down between the rest of the party and her in a waterfall of bricks and mortar.

 

[Sloan]

Sloan's eyes rose from the floor as she felt Brackard's gaze shift toward her, a brow quirking briefly at the name the man tremulously uttered. Her expression otherwise remained stoic as she stared back at the interrogator.

Hearing Florinthe at the door, Sloan lifted her chin and rolled her shoulders, her eyes never leaving Brackard's face as she pulled in a breath and spoke calmly for the first time. "Are we done here?.."

She'd been about to say more when Zana's words froze her mid breath and she felt the building tremble. She swore and rushed to pull open the doors, eyes on Flor before darting around in search of the other woman.

"Zana!?!" Sloan called out in panic, a plume of dust engulfing her as she stepped out of the room, utterly torn between staying to do her job and protect Brackard at all costs, and finding her daughter. She scrambled forward into the rubble and pulled at it with magic and muscle both.. "Flor!! Bar the doors and help me clear this!" she barked.

"Zana!!" she repeated in desperate need of the woman's answer.

 

[Brackard Cain]

Brackard remained stood up. It was not for any bravery on his part. He was long past the athleticism to dive to the ground and have a hope of getting back up again.

He whipped the dust from his eyes and checked himself for damage. Everything hurt so much that he likely wouldn't notice a minor wound.

"They're coming."

Brackard looked down at his prisoner. His voice was barely a whisper.

"Even three dreadlords won't help you." The man managed a rapsy wheeze that might have been a laugh.